Much further to the east, in the seemingly endless Grass Sea, another Lannister faced far different problems, though his were also tied to the fate of a Targaryen princess. And said princess, Daenerys Stormborn, only daughter of the late King Aerys and wife of the great and feared Khal Drogo, had long since grown wary of the presence of Tyrion Lannister.
Though his presence was rather unobtrusive at most times and though the imp or half-man, as the Dothraki tended to call him mockingly, put much emphasis on his desire to aid her in any way possible, she could not bring herself to trust him. Too true were the words of Ser Jorah, who had cautioned her that the Lannisters always only acted in their own best interest and that Tyrion's own brother was the one to betray and murder her father. Not to mention that his father, Lord Tywin, had been responsible for the deaths of her sister-in-law and her nephew. The fact that the Kingslayer saved Rhaenys only presented the question what he intended to gain through that action. No, she was sure that trusting a Lannister would not be in her best interest after all.
And then there was the Dornish princess with him. Her brother's betrothed. Arianne Martell rarely conversed with Daenerys and usually kept close to Viserys. She literally threw herself at him, like a wanton whore. The Dothraki did not mind, though she could see that some of the Bloodriders seemed to envy Viserys for his truly beautiful price. But from what Daenerys knew and from what Ser Jorah told her of her homeland, the acts of this princess would be considered highly inappropriate in Westeros and would have without a doubt lead to a premature end of the betrothal. The future wife of a king was expected to act appropriately and Arianne did not meet these expectations. Daenerys could only imagine that her own mother would be appalled, had she seen this.
All of this made it very hard for the youngest son of Lord Tywin to act around Daenerys and so the princess had begun to trust more in the opinions of Ser Jorah, who was less likely to answer to any higher lord in the West, who could wish her harm. And so far the northern exile was always truthful with her. Her taught her those thing Viserys never wanted her to learn. He tried to assure her, that she was now no longer her brother's little puppet. So far she wasn't fully convinced.
As they were once again on the way to the east, Daenerys kept an eye on her husband, who was riding with his Bloodriders and not with her. The whole khalasar was in a joyous mood, after another raid on a small village the day before. They had taken a sizable number of slaves and sated their blood lust when the men of the village tried to resist the attack, though they were vastly outnumbered and stood no chance against the battle hardened warriors of the nomadic horde. Drogo had come to her tent after the fight and took her with even more vigor than usual. Daenerys had learned quickly that he was even more intent on taking her after a good fight, as he apparently thought that he would surely sire a great son after bathing in the blood of his enemies. During the last day he had defeated the three best fighters of that village single handed and at the same time, so he was even more assured that this night he would get her with child. And she had no doubt that it would happen soon, if it hadn't happened already.
For a moment she wondered what would happen, should she be with child at the same time as her brother's betrothed. It couldn't take much longer for her to become pregnant, not after sharing Viserys bed most nights for months now. But what would that mean for the children? Her children would be Dothraki. Wild warriors of the Grass Sea. Viserys children would be princes and princesses of the Iron Throne. What would that mean for them?
"Just look at them, still celebrating the slaughter of those people. Uncouth barbarians, though I have to express my respect of their ruthless efficiency. They will serve their purpose in our war, if we can restrain them properly." Her brother had come up to her. Even such moments had become rare. Viserys preferred the company of the Lannister and the harlot, as they presented a welcome difference to the uncultured barbarians. They were his people... but no longer hers.
"The Dothraki cannot be controlled, they are free like the wild horses on the plains of the Grass Sea." Daenerys replied solemnly. "They will fight your enemies, but they will do it their way." His enemies. His war. His throne. His crown. She had come to terms with the fact that she would most likely never return to her families homeland. Drogo would leave her in Vaes Dothrak or in Pentos, should she not be pregnant by the time they arrived at the large Dothraki settlement. He would not take her with him to the West. No matter what Viserys thought, Drogo was not dumb. No, he had a strange kind of cunning that neither of the Targaryen siblings had encountered before. The Khal knew that taking Daenerys to her homeland, where Viserys had other armies at his disposal, could end with him loosing his wife. Drogo distrusts Viserys just as much as the prince distrusts him.
Viserys looked disdainfully at her, "We will see about that. They are wild beasts, but their spirit will be molded with fire and tempered with their own blood in Westeros."
"They will crush your enemies, brother, that is all you want."
"I want them to ride west, not east. I want them to fight in my war and crush my enemies. Yet all they do is ride to that city of theirs, for no apparent reason. I grow tired of waiting. The war has already started, Daenerys. And we don't want our niece to have all the fun with traitors, do we?"
This shocked Daenerys. She had not know about this. No one had told. Not the Lannister, not even Ser Jorah. Well maybe the latter didn't know, but it was obvious that Tyrion Lannister still had his ways to find out about what happens in west. More than once had she seen men who must have been messengers from Pentos.
Hearing that her niece was already fighting the bloody conflict that he brother had talked and dreamed about for years, was very surprising. From all she had heard, she had always assumed that Rhaenys was a true princess. Raised to be little more than a golden adornment to her future husbands arm. She had been jealous of her for years. Rhaenys, who had lived protected with her family, in the rich and beautiful lands of House Martell, whereas she had to live as mere guests at other lords households. She had felt like a beggar and had been sold like slave, all for her brothers crown. Her niece had to suffer none of this... but was she really fighting now, like the famous ancestress whose name she shares? Or was she hiding behind her loyal knights. Hiding behind the man who had murdered her grandfather? His king! Her father, King Aerys!
"Don't look like that, sister. Our little niece has become truly magnificent. Apparently she has begun to lead troops herself. Never far from the battles. Oh she would have been such a wonderful wife to me, but alas, the gods had different plans. She is married to the heir of Highgarden now and I have the heiress of Dorne as my future wife. With Dorne and the Reach on our side we will crush all enemies this time." Viserys smirked, as he steered his horse away from Daenerys. She wondered how much her brother truly liked his betrothed, for it seemed to really bother him that Rhaenys was now married to a man who was not related to the Targaryens in the slightest.
And now Viserys had obviously grown tired of talking to her, when she did not show the reactions that he had wanted to see. He had always wanted her to agree to everything he says and in the past she had done so. But now she relished in a new found freedom from him, though she was still hesitant to test her new boundaries... yet. Only belatedly she realized how often she had been nothing more than a foolish little girl, who had believed every word her brother had spouted, no matter how ridiculous it had sounded.
"Are you alright, Khaleesi?" Ser Jorah had come, once Viserys had been far enough away. "You look pale. Have you eaten enough? Such long travels on horseback are very taxing on those unused to it, such as yourself." His concern was endearing. It was so much more than anyone else had ever shown her. Not even Viserys and he was her own blood.
"It is just... my brother has told me that the war he talks about day and night, has already begun. And my niece is now fighting the battle for his throne." Daenerys revealed. She was still struggling with how she should feel about this.
Ser Jorah showed no outside reaction to this proclamation, so she couldn't be sure whether he knew this or not. But if he did know and didn't tell her, was this another sign that she could trust no one or did he do it to protect her? Of all the people around her, she would believe him to be the first to do such a thing to protect the fragile child that she obviously was.
One of Drogo's Bloodriders came towards them, fast and determined, so this could only mean that Drogo had sent this man himself. He said something in the guttural tongue of the Dothraki, but she did not understand it. She was learning, but the process was harder than she had ever expected. The imp had also started learning and was already far better at this language, much to her envy. It was always very uncomfortable to be in the presence of her husband, without understanding what he said to her. At least she understood fragments now, but learning the language proper would be a very long and time consuming endeavor.
"He says that the Khalasar will stop for the night. Those in front of us have already started building up the tents and Khal Drogo is waiting for you, Khaleesi. He has demanded for your company. Haggo will lead you to him."
She had expected this to happen as soon as the sun would set, so this came as no surprise. And she knew that she had no say in this. No choice. If she resisted, Haggo would force her to come. The Bloodrider was huge man and a hardened warrior, who would not allow her to deny his Khal. At least she would not have to fear that this man would ever be allowed to take her himself. Though some Khals tended to share their wives with their Bloodriders, Drogo had made it clear that he wouldn't. But she knew that this irked these men, Haggo especially, but his unending loyalty to Drogo would never allow him to follow his urges. But she wondered idly, whether Ser Jorah would defend her, should Haggo decide to attack her. Would he? Or would he sit back and watch, like all others?
But such thoughts were of no importance and she knew that there was little sense in resisting. So she allowed Haggo to take the reins of her horse and lead her towards her husband. Maybe tonight his dream would be fulfilled. Maybe tonight he would sire a son. Maybe he would finally get this sign he was waiting for, so they could turn around and move back to the Free Cities, from where they would join the war in Westeros. Maybe this was her part in all of this. To get Drogo to fight for her family's legacy. Maybe she could steer him this way.
...maybe.